He smiles. “I’ll be here.”
I move backward. “Go learn about cows and shit.”
Cooper shakes his head. “I’ll do my best.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“I’m countin’ on it.”
I turn my back and get in my car as he stands there with his hand up. I touch the window and smile. “Bye, Coop,” I say, and he winks.
My phone dings with a text from Vince, and I know I can’t wait any longer. I have to go. Putting the car in drive, I try not to look at him, and I move forward, leaving Cooper in the rearview mirror.
* * * *
The bus is parked in the new arena in Houston. We had an issue with Luke’s bus and ended up not leaving Dallas until two in the morning, but I slept restlessly the four hours it took us to get here, wishing I were with Cooper. If I don’t get more rest, I’m going to be a bear for the show. I toss and turn for another thirty minutes before there’s a knock on the door.
Ginny steps in without invitation, saying, “I saw your light on.”
“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”
She moves to the couch, and I rub my eyes. “I’m heading to Nashville in ten minutes. I wanted to check in and see what the plan is when you’re finished with the tour in a month?”
I’m not sure what to say. Before Cooper showing up here, the answer would have been easy—go back to Nashville and bust my ass. Now, I want to maybe visit Bell Buckle a bit. I haven’t seen Grace, Presley, or Angie for a while now. It would be good to catch up.
Sure, Em, that’s the reason.
I can’t even lie to myself.
I’ve learned a lot about Ginny, and the thing I know more than anything is that she likes honesty. That’s what I’ll give her. “I think I’m going to take a few weeks in Bell Buckle. Then I’ll head back to Nashville.”
Ginny doesn’t speak, she just nods slowly. Great. I’m now “that” artist. The one who says she wants it all and then falls for some guy and throws it away.
“So, two weeks there?” she asks.
I’m not sure I can endure more than that in Bell Buckle, and that should be enough time to figure out what I’m feeling. “Yes. No more than two weeks.”
She stands, sighs, and then hands me a stack of envelopes. “You got another batch of mail. I know you still refuse to allow my team to handle them for you.”
I smile. “Fan mail is something I’ve dreamed of,” I explain. “Not everyone is as fortunate as I am. I like to stay humble.”
Ginny rolls her eyes with a grin. “I’ll see you in Nashville in a few weeks.”
“Yes, you will.”
When she leaves, I grab the stack of notes and start going through them. My process with this is simple: I read them and then keep the addresses to send a custom fan club guitar pick. Sometimes, depending on the letters, I’ll write back. It’s cathartic for me on some level.
I open the next letter and smile. A little seven-year-old who saw the show in Phoenix and says I’m her new favorite singer. This is why I open them all. I write her back and make a note to include a few things.
The next letter has no return address. I hate when they do that.
As I pull the note out, a chill runs down my spine.
The letter is cut out newspaper letters that spell out: You should be mine.
What the fuck?
This is getting ridiculous. Nothing is threatening in this, but what is wrong with people? Do they have nothing better to do? Plus, I’m not even a little bit of a big deal. I’m a baby in this industry.
The last thing I want to do is cause waves on this tour, either. I need to be smart and not end up labeled as a problem child who cried over a few stupid letters. Luke told me yesterday about a fan who sends him a letter a day.
This is what being in the public eye means and I need to get used to it.
I huff out a breath and toss the letter aside.
No more fan mail for me right now.
My head is filled with so much emotion that maybe writing songs is what I should do.
I play a few melodies, and one starts to take hold. Words pour out as I start to arrange the notes.
Words about maybe finding something I didn’t know I wanted, worrying about if things don’t work out, and then learning to accept the fear.
I sing and strum my guitar, stopping randomly to jot things down.
Lost in the process, I almost don’t check my phone when it pings. Almost.
Grace: So, do I need to buy a ticket to talk to my best friend?
Me: I know someone who could hook you up.
Grace: I miss you.
Instead of texting back and forth, I dial her number.
“Hey!” She answers on the second ring, and I can almost hear her smile through the phone.
“I miss you more!”
“Not possible,” Grace disagrees. “How are you? How’s the tour?”
I fill her in on the fun stuff she loves hearing about. It’s a regular soap opera on tour. People hooking up, some married, and lots of crazy drinking. I’m lucky that I’ve been able to stay out of all of it. We laugh about some of the cool places I’ve gotten to see. Grace is a history nut and loves tourist stuff. I sent her a few photos when we played in Gettysburg and visited the battlefield.
Now I need to tell her what I’ve been slightly nervous to say. “There’s not really much to say, I’ve been getting weird letters, but that’s par for the course.” I brush that part off and release a shaky breath.
Grace clears her throat. “What do you mean par for the course?”
I should’ve kept my mouth shut. “It’s normal for artists to get weird fan mail. Luke was telling me about some of the stuff he’s gotten. That’s not what I’m nervous about, Grace.”
“Trent!” Grace calls, and I drop my head back. “Emily is getting letters that she said are weird.”
“Grace!” I yell in the receiver. “It’s really not a big deal!”
“You’re all freaked out.” She huffs. “I can hear it in your voice. Don’t lie to me, Emily.”
She’s sweet to care, but that isn’t what has me feeling this way. “I’m nervous because I need to tell you that I saw Cooper when we were in Dallas.”
“Really?” Her voice goes an octave higher and shifts to excitement. “I know he’s out of town, but I didn’t know he was near you.”
“Yeah, and…” I pause, trying to get my courage. “Well, we…we…we kind of hooked up or I don’t know.”
“Oh my God!” Grace screeches. “She’s fine, Trent. Go away.” She yells and then covers the phone.
I can hear her yelling at him and telling him to leave her be, which makes me giggle. They’re so funny together.
“Sorry, he thought something happened with these letters. So, how was it? Do you think there’s somethin’ there? Are you guys, like, together? Oh, Emmy! Spill it! I need details. Ahh, I’m so happy!”
She really is. There’s no weirdness, not that there really should be since all they’ve ever shared was one really bad kiss. Still, I don’t know… There’s something about dating your friend’s ex that feels like betrayal. Even though Grace knows how I’ve felt about him for a year now. One night when I was visiting Mama, I got shitfaced and spilled how I really felt about Cooper to Grace and Presley, who were overjoyed. Grace insisted that Coop felt the same but was too afraid I’d turn him down. Funny that we were both worried about the same thing.
When I saw him, it was like all the tension that I thought I had dissipated came roaring back.
Only it didn’t just bubble, it boiled over.
I flop back on the bed and blow a long breath out. “I don’t know what we are. But he was in Dallas and came to the show. He came back to the bus, and it just happened. Then we spent the whole day together again, and I can’t explain it.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
I wish. “No, we spent two nights talkin’ and makin’ out. And then we explored Dallas. It was crazy, Grace.
It’s nuts that I spent all night thinking of him, wishin’ he was with me. It’s insane that I want to get a car and drive back to Dallas, right?”
“What do you think?” Grace answers a question with a question.
I hate that.
I groan. “I think a year’s worth of squashing feelings has just been let out. The sparks between us were instant, and being with him was so easy. It is truly the way you describe bein’ with Trent.”
“If it’s easy, then it’s right. You’ve liked him for a while. And I know he’s liked you for just as long. I guess the question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.”
Grace huffs. “You know, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who told me to stop bein’ stupid not too long ago. Don’t you think you should do the same and go after the first guy you’ve actually shown interest in since college? Cooper isn’t just some guy.”
She’s right. This is totally different. This isn’t just some guy… He could be so much more.
A knock at the door stops me from answering. One of the roadies opens the door with a big bouquet of roses. “Emily Young?”
“That’s me.” I smile. “Are those for me?”
“Sure are.”
“Oh, Grace! I just got two dozen roses!” I take the card from the holder and grin.
“Cooper?” she asks with excitement.
I read the card: A flower for every kiss I plan to share with you.
“I think so. Whoever it was didn’t sign the card.” I clutch the words to my chest and grin. It has to be from him.
“Well, he’s very romantic and a good guy,” Grace replies. Trent’s voice echoes in the back. “Em, the baby woke up, and Trent doesn’t have boobs.”
I laugh. “Okay, kiss Hannah for me.”
“I will. Love you! Call him!”
Chapter Five
Cooper
“Well, well, well, Wade Rycroft as I live and breathe.” I clap his shoulder, and he stands.
Wade grips my hand and shakes. “Cooper Townsend. I heard you were in town.”
“Yeah, just a few days. I was hopin’ to run into you. I’m here for the new expo. How are you, man? How’s your family?”
Our families have known each other for a long time, and our fathers are good friends. They were both young ranchers who met at an auction and stayed in touch. Wade and I bonded over the years in the rodeo circuit. He was better than I was. I’ll never tell him that, though.
I grab the seat next to him at the small bar I found by the hotel. Today was draining, and I had to fight myself not to drive to Houston to see Emily. So, instead of staring at the white walls in my room, I opted for a drink.
“You know my brothers, they’re the same. Rowdy as fuck and always in trouble.”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “As much as I wish I had brothers to help run the ranch, I’m glad it was just Presley most of the time.”
“Family.”
“Exactly. You still in the Army? I didn’t know you were back in town.”
Wade drains the beer in front of him and shakes his head. “Nope. I’m out.”
“Well, thank you for your service.”
He lets out a short laugh and motions to the bartender for another beer. She returns quickly with another round for both of us.
“How’s the ranch?”
“I’m actually working for a security company, McKay-Taggart. Best around. Since I’m chock full of useless knowledge that doesn’t apply to bein’ a rancher. Army didn’t prepare you for what happens when they kick you out for injuries. Nice, huh?”
There’s an edge to what he says, and I realize just how much he’s changed. The Wade I knew was funny and full of life. The man on that barstool is battling something deep. I was there not all that long ago. I didn’t want my farm. I wanted to do anything else. I always wished I could’ve joined the service, but Pop needed me to take over. With my sister off in Philadelphia, it fell on me.
Being saddled with burdens I never meant to carry changed me. Left a bitter taste that made it hard to swallow. I see the same thing in Wade.
“Well, I’ll buy you another beer, and you can tell me all about it.”
Wade and I sit and catch up. He tells me about the McKay-Taggart security company he works for, how he isn’t married, and how different it is with both parents gone. Dad attended Mr. Rycroft’s funeral, said it was horrible watching all those boys look to Wade.
“Is the ranch workin’ without you being there?” I ask him.
“My brothers have it handled.”
He tells me more about his time in the service and the missions he went on. And, although I can’t really imagine what it was like or what injuries he sustained that brought him back here, I admire what he’s done.
“The company you work for now?” I press.
“Good men, most former military, which helps when it comes to this shit. You want to know whoever has your six knows what they’re doing,” Wade explains.
“I can understand that.”
Wade nods. “I can’t complain too much. I’m making good money and I’m never bored.”
There’s no mistaking that he’s capable, it’s in the way he watches everything happening in the room. I haven’t glanced at the door once, but his eyes shift each time.
“You on a job now?” I ask.
“No. I just finished one and am waiting for my next assignment.”
I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t jealous. Living a life where there’s a little danger and mystery would be far more interesting than my own life. Cows are cows.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and Emily’s sweet smile fills my screen. Her long blonde hair is pulled over her shoulder and her bright blue eyes make my heart squeeze. “I need to take this,” I explain to Wade and answer the call, moving toward the back of the bar.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey, yourself.”
“You finish your show?” I ask, wondering how long it would take me to drive to Houston. It’s insane, but now that I’ve had a taste of her, I want it all.
Emily sighs. “I did.”
I wish I could’ve seen her perform. She is truly made to be up there. You can’t take your eyes off her when she’s on stage. I don’t think I understood what she meant when she said that music was inside her until I saw it myself.
Emily Young comes alive when she sings.
And two days ago when I watched her show, even if she wasn’t singing to me, it felt like it. I know she was on that one song, but it was more than that. She made every man in that room feel like they were on the brink of something. I could feel it around me, building inside me, and at that moment, I would’ve done anything for her.
“You sound sad,” I say as she lets out another low sigh.
“I am. I miss you, Cooper.” Her voice is filled with uncertainty and fear. I want to take that away from her, and I’d be lying if I said knowing that she’s even a little torn up about me doesn’t make me happy.
At least I’m not the only one struggling.
I groan. “Fuck, Em. How am I supposed to wait to see you again?”
She giggles. “You could be here in just four hours.”
“And then what?”
“Come and find out.”
This is what has always drawn me to Emily Young. She’s bold, sexy, and not afraid to say what’s on her mind. She isn’t like the other girls I’ve known. Everything about her is alluring, and I want to uncover every layer she has. The only issue is that she’ll never fit into the life I have. Emily won’t ever be content settled down in Bell Buckle. She’s meant for the spotlight, and I’m not.
That doesn’t stop me from wanting whatever I can get, though.
“Don’t tempt me.”
Emily’s voice is warm and soft. “I wouldn’t want you to miss the reason for your trip.”
I don’t give a fuck about my trip.
I don’t even remember why the hell I’m her
e.
She’s what has taken up every ounce of my headspace. It’s as if I’ve glimpsed at Heaven, and it’s all I can see anymore. I need to go back, taste more, see everything, have it all because I don’t know if I can survive without it—even if it’s only once.
I say the only thing that makes sense. “We’ve waited a long time for this, Emily. I think we owe it to ourselves, don’t you?”
“I’ll be waitin’ for you.”
The phone disconnects, and I need to go.
“Hey, I need to take care of something,” I try to explain to Wade.
He smiles. “Sure you do.”
“You know how it is.” It’s the way it’s always been and how it always will be. “Listen, I’m only in town for a few days, but I’d love to catch up.”
Wade writes his number down, and I shake his hand. “I’m around this week, but if I get a job, I may be gone without warning.”
“I get it. It was good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too, Coop.”
We part ways, and I find myself practically running to the car. Now that I know I’m going to see her, I need to get to her immediately.
During the drive, I think about all the responsibilities I’m blowing off right now. I’ve never been one to walk away from something that involved the ranch. My sister was able to turn her back on things, but I couldn’t.
Though I’m not the only one around to run things, so it isn’t such a big deal. A year ago, I knew I needed to bring on a partner. Presley was the one who caught onto how much money we were losing because of how quickly we were growing and we couldn’t keep up. I needed more help so we could scale the business, buy more land, and also sleep more than two hours a night. So, I offered the job to Wyatt Hennington, who had been my foreman for eight years. It made sense to bring him on. Between the both of us, it’s allowed us to expand and grow.
Me: I’m going to be a few more days.
Wyatt: No worries. We have things covered.
Me: I’ll call you when I have more info.
Wyatt: What has you tied up?
Say You Won't Let Go: A Return to Me/Masters and Mercenaries Novella (Lexi Blake Crossover Collection Book 4) Page 4
